You've taken it to the far corners
and then some
without the least bit of worry
that someone's derailleur could jam.
And now what?
You're without a signal
and your merit badge in Morse Code
is just that.
Perhaps a recapitulation would help,
a wandering in the dunes
beyond Commercial
past the Inn and tiered gardens
the tiny liquor store
the ice cream parlor
opposite the post office
with steps ideal for people-watching
and time-sensitive commentary
to the lighthouse
that years ago we walked to
in low tide and later
found ourselves neck-deep in the Atlantic,
but I doubt it.
The Pinot Noir you're nursing
awaits the green light
in the green room
as the cost of casualness
leaves you backpedaling
to remembrance.
Your life has taken on a different hue, yes?
Even for bookmakers
whose long shots revisit you in the wee hours
multiplying location by desire.
